


The Name of the Wave

by KASPIAN (orphan_account)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Love at First Sight, M/M, Movie Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 19:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/KASPIAN
Summary: Everyone’s tried it once or twice before: the moment you meet someone who simply clicks with you in the blink of an eye. That breathtaking moment of realization when you think that wow, this is a stranger you want to know everything about.





	The Name of the Wave

 

’’Heard a good DJ’s going to play tonight,’’ the words have to be shouted till they ring in Jongin’s ears; Yixing who stands awfully close even if they’re both wearing leather jackets and it’s too warm between them.

‘’SNSD is still coming, right?’’ Jongin shouts back, grimacing at the volume and his throat feeling raw and hoarse after a mere hour spent here. That’s to be expected on a Friday night in a nightclub, after all. It’s the packed feeling of unity, flashing lights and booming music that give the effect you won’t experience somewhere else.

‘’Yeah, yeah, tomorrow… but SNSD’s been here many times before. This one’s new,’’ Yixing replies, ‘’and the DJ is told to be really good. Popular other places, actually.’’

Jongin isn’t keen if the matter is about change, especially because he likes the way SNSD plays; an anonymous woman in her mid-twenties who plays upbeat rhythms and brings special gear. She’s quite known in the area for her electropop and house remixes.

‘’Yeah?’’ Jongin isn’t one to roll over.

‘’I was told by ‘Seok that they’re a singer, beatboxer and DJ. They combine it, usually. How about it?’’ Yixing smiles inquiringly, his breath smelling of the strawberry vodka drink he got when they came in.

‘’You’d usually have a beatboxer by your side – not  _ be _  the beatboxer if you’re remixing live,’’ Jongin frowns. This sounds like bullshit.

‘’Whatever. You’re not going to enjoy any music with that attitude,’’ Yixing shrugs. He does a nonchalant tip of his chin like he’s sure Jongin’s going to change his mind.

Which Jongin is prone to do, because although Jongin’s mellow in the middle, he’s got the defense shield making him a prude sometimes. He’ll admit as much, but that doesn’t change his first impressions of things. People will have to pry a layer deeper to get under his skin, usually.

Suddenly, the noise around him and the increasing amount of people don’t seem alluring anymore. Knowing his favorite DJ isn’t coming, his mood drops instantly and he’d rather be at a quiet bar with an acoustic guitar playing and someone singing.

He yells a short ‘’going VIP,’’ to Yixing, to which Yixing rolls his eyes but gives his friend a thumbs up and a fond shoulder jab.

The good thing about this nightclub is that Jongin’s got connections.

He knows the owner of the place, that being Minseok, an older friend of his who used to hand him cigarettes in the schoolyard when Jongin was young. Minseok said he knew of the whole world and its bad places, even if he was only about to graduate high school and it meant he had certain connections of his own with his social circle... plus that scooter guy who was rumored to sell weed but only carried bags of oregano to make it look like it.

Time has passed since then, but they’ve still got their ties strung in an odd friendship that gets Jongin free drinks and VIP passage.

Jongin only has to show his face to one of the guards to gain access, prompting a half-hearted smile that’s mildly affected by his dismay.

No one has shown up in the VIP lounge yet. Give it a few hours, and people who’ve got money in their pockets will roam the place and sit on the white leather seats or go to the eloquent bar lined up with lots of expensive alcohol and the lack of blotchy stains from no accidents.

Music from the club thumps through the walls albeit less loudly, and there’s a comfortable smell of cologne in the room.

Jongin picks a seat at the mentioned bar, clearing his throat to get the attention of the bartender who’s in the middle of arranging a couple of bottles.

_ ‘’Oh,’’ _  Jongdae cocks a brow, throwing a sharp look over his shoulder, the gesture accompanied by a sleek smirk. ‘’What’re you doing in here, ballet boy? Thought your feet would’ve caught on fire on the dancefloor by now. You’ve never got time to visit me anymore,’’ he mocks, faking a heartfelt sniffle.

‘’There’s a new DJ playing tonight,’’ Jongin complains without hesitation, shamelessly melting on the desk before him that throws back his own reflection and the bright color of his bleached hair due to the fine polished surface.

‘’And?’’ Jongdae turns around. He picks a glass to prepare a drink, pouring from two different bottles in turns and letting ice cubes crackle in the mixture.

‘’I want SNSD to play,’’ Jongin murmurs, about to rub one of his eyes with the heel of his hand, but refraining in the last second, remembering the smudge of eyeliner on each eyelid.

‘’So moody,’’ Jongdae slides the glass over the counter. ‘’Why is it that you always come  _ here _  to bitch about life?’’ he crosses his arms and watches Jongin grab the drink with a low  _ ‘thanks, Dae’. _

Jongdae tilts his head, ‘’this is a night club where we occasionally hire Go-go dancers, really. A new DJ is nothing new. You’re just mad ‘cause you expect the same artists to perform whenever you’re here,’’ he clicks his tongue with a hint of fondness, ‘’spoiled asswipe.’’

He continues, ‘’besides, tonight’s DJ is good. He’s a cool guy.’’

‘’A guy?’’ Jongin perks up. ‘’Young, medium or old like you?’’

‘’Does it matter?’’ Jongdae counters. ‘’He’s  **_good_ ** . Likes those… Slow jams and deep beats. Your style, you know? With added moans in the background that you can grind to and pour your everlasting teenage hormones into. His singing is amazing.’’

Jongin’s cheeks heat a little at the truth in the words, even if he’ll probably deny it if he’s asked directly.

‘’I don’t want some  _ cool guy _  to play. And if it’s a guy you like, he’s probably the kind of dude who likes the drawn-out and repetitive genres and uses trendy sound memes and air horns in the background for an effect…’’

_ ‘’Har-har,’’ _  Jongdae flicks Jongin’s forehead, and Jongin scowls but takes a sip from his drink while rubbing the spot with his free hand.

The bar stool beside him creaks when another person joins.

Of all seats the guy could’ve taken, he’s chosen the one right next to Jongin.

But okay, being directly social is a thing. Jongin’s got to remember that, and the thing about doing a five meter’s distance between two people at a lone bar isn’t a style everyone rocks.

‘’Good evening,’’ the guy greets, his voice bordering a deep vocal that disrupts the comfortable semi-silence, resembling a vibration or a whisper than an actual greeting.

Jongin chokes on his drink but quickly licks away droplets of magenta liquid dripping from a patch below his lips.

Luckily, Jongdae’s too busy engaging a conversation with the stranger to laugh at Jongin.

‘’Don’t be so formal with me,’’ the bartender scoffs and swats the guy with a dishtowel. ‘’About time you arrived.’’

‘’Sorry,’’ the guy smiles sheepishly, the action wriggling his ears and making his square glasses lift.

‘’Too damn polite for your own good,’’ Jongdae’s upper lip ticks, aggravated. He adjusts his bowtie and shoves a menu over the counter to the stranger.

Jongin sneaks a look at the guy beside him, but quickly looks back, then at the guy again, then back – the literal feeling of question marks shaping in his head.

The guy’s… small.

He doesn’t fill much, but it’s not hard to see that his torso and stance are both something, even if he’s wearing a simple black t-shirt and an olive green bomber jacket over it.

He’s got a two-cut hairstyle and has three piercings in his left earlobe, contrary to his bashful but almost blank-looking face covered by the glasses.

While having a voice like that, the guy’s appearance seems so out of place. His back is straight and his hands are folded neatly on his lap. There’s not a lock of a hair sitting wrong and he looks incredibly…

Sophisticated?

Average?

**_But not?_ **

Jongin takes a swig of his drink and decidedly looks the other way.

What’s wrong with this guy?

What’s wrong with  _ Jongin _ ?

In the meantime, the guy keeps talking with Jongdae and orders a drink.

Jongin doesn’t hear any of it. He’s sure he’s too busy feeling weird about feeling weird. Does that make any sense? He’s got no idea.

‘’Hey,’’ the same whisper-like voice says.

Jongin flinches and turns his head, cheeks still gouged with the rather strong beverage that he can’t possibly down in one go like this unless he wants his throat to burn.

He does it anyway, and knows his face must look weird from trying not to gag, although he’s quick to mask it with the charming smile he does on commando no matter if he’s talking to an old man or a small girl scout selling cookies.

Bad habit.

‘’Right back at you,’’ he says and shakes the hand the guy’s holding out, surprised at the warm but firm grip the guy’s got.

Although Jongin’s not much for socializing, he’s always been charismatic and knows how the deal goes.

‘’I’m Kyungsoo,’’ the guy greets, his eyes changing look like he’s at a conference or a meeting, pulled by professionalism. ‘’You’ve heard of me from Jongdae, I assume.’’

Why’s he introducing himself?  **_They’re strangers in a bar._ **

A VIP bar, but still.

‘’You’re the owner of the club, right?’’ he asks.

Jongin sits still for a second, comprehending the question.

Jongdae doesn’t even interfere. He just turns around and probably crosses self-competitive tic-tac-toes in a magazine with a smug expression on his face.

‘’Me? No,  _ no _ ,  **_no_ ** ,’’ Jongin assures, showing the flat of his palms. He’s sure his surprised laugh must come off bitter and confused but he still crooks it in an attempt to be polite. ‘’The owner’s name is Kim Minseok. I’m not sure if he’s here tonight,’’ he explains.

‘’You’re not…?’’ Kyungsoo stops. ‘’Oh-  _ oh _ , I’m sorry. I just thought-‘’ one of his hands goes up to scratch a spot beneath his ear, ‘’I thought… since… because you were talking to Jongdae and… the only one here aside...,’’ he laugh airlessly, embarrassed.

‘’I can tell you that my name’s Jongin. I’m a local… or, sort of average guy here. I’m a friend of Minseok. The owner, you know,’’ Jongin doesn’t even know why he feels  _ a need _  to lighten Kyungsoo’s embarrassment, like he wants to tell him it’s alright and Kyungsoo’s actually done nothing wrong and there’s no need to smile that adorably.

‘’Wait but- I’m not a local guy like that. In that sense. I only come every third weekend or something. I don’t drink that often,’’ Jongin quickly adds.

He skillfully ignores Jongdae’s silent, muffled laugh in the background.

Kyungsoo doesn’t look like he remarks it. ‘’Jongin,’’ he tastes the name on his tongue, and Jongin guiltily likes the way the guy can make his name sound so intimate.

‘’I don’t drink much either, even if you’d think so with my side-job,’’ the guy grins in that airy  _ oopsie-daisy _  way again when he then grabs the drink he ordered, taking a sip while his eyes remain on Jongin. He’s got small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and a mature setting of his jaw, so he’s likely around Jongdae’s age, at least more than six years older than Jongin.

Everything about Kyungsoo is so honest.

It’s rare to meet people like that these days, Jongin thinks, and doesn’t even realize he’s staring back without saying anything or drinking the last dollop of alcohol in his own glass, caught in the way Kyungsoo’s cheeks become round from smiling and how the outline and shadows building his face from this angle make him look like he’s shining in the dim light of the bar.

‘’Is this what they call  **_love at first sight?_ ** ’’ Jongdae hums. He’s apparently leaned in over the desk to slowly shift an observant gaze between them on a close hold.

Funnily, Kyungsoo’s the one who chokes on his drink this time, and unlike Jongin, he’s not nearly as graceful and spits the content out on his pants, hastily slamming the glass onto the counter with a clank.

He’s back to looking embarrassed again, about to raise himself to get something to dry the patches with, but Jongin’s faster by leaning over the bar to snatch Jongdae’s dishtowel and doing it for him.

‘’This is so romantic,’’ Jongdae dryly comments, not even bothering to help but merely deciding to mind his own business again by fetching a new magazine from somewhere in the back of the bar.

And, for some reason, Jongin ends up talking with Kyungsoo for no less than an hour.

Once the barrier of stranger awkwardness fades, it’s surprisingly easy to corner all kinds of random subjects while other guests enter the lounge and have Jongdae busy.

Everyone’s tried it once or twice before: the moment you meet someone who simply clicks with you in the blink of an eye. That breathtaking moment of realization when you think that wow, this is a stranger you want to know everything about.

It’s odd, because throughout the conversation with pauses where they end up staring dumbly at each other, not even with uncomfortable breaks, Jongin’s got a nagging in the back of his head that tells him Kyungsoo’s not just a nobody in a VIP section.

Kyungsoo’s so courteous and soft-spoken. He’s not the type you’ll see partying at a nightclub like Jongin, who’s a person who can go all in if he’s in the mood and one of his favorite DJs performs.

Back in time, he dyed his hair all kinds of colors but stopped when it damaged his hair and he had to follow the rules of his profession and only wear either black, brown or blond hair color.

‘’I’ve got to go now. We can talk later, maybe-’’ Kyungsoo says at one point, the conversation disrupted by Jongdae quickly leaning in to poke Kyungsoo’s bicep to remind him of something Jongin doesn’t get a snippet of.

‘’If you’re still here when I’m done,’’ there’s an ounce of hope in Kyungsoo’s voice.

Jongin doesn’t get what it means, but he can’t say no –

‘’I can… I can wait all night, don’t worry,’’ he’s… god, he’s getting corny, and his third drink is probably getting to his head at this point.

Movies, Jongin thinks. It’s like in the movies where everything stops. Their eyes lock in a lasting gaze, and there’s that feeling –

Bubbling ensuing in his stomach, storming up to his chest and up his throat, making him bite his lip in case the thing wants to spill from his mouth.

Kyungsoo dives a hand into the inner-pocket of his own jacket, fumbling to get something.

He holds out a small piece of paper, ‘’this is my public number,’’ he says. He asks Jongdae to get a pen –

‘’This is my private,’’ he scribbles an extra line on the back of the card before handing it over to Jongin.

‘’You should go out and dance,’’ he says, voice dropping low and intimate. ‘’I’d like you to.’’

With that, he disappears, doesn’t head for the usual entrance but talks to one of the guards who leads him to another part of the building instead.

Jongin finally looks at the paper, which turns out to be a business card with a logo in the right corner and the initials  **_D.O_ **  beneath it.

‘’He’s going to play in ten minutes,’’ Jongdae startles Jongin.

‘’Who?’’

Jongdae effortlessly swats Jongin with the dishtowel. The bartender’s becoming good at it, probably because he’s done it so many times in one night.

‘’Get the fuck out of my bar,’’ he hisses, ‘’and go shake your little ass to the beat, or  **_I’ll damn right come make you do it._ ** ’’

Jongin scowls, but fishes out some extra cash bills and a yoghurt gift card he’s never used from the wallet that’s started shaping itself in the curve of his right ass cheek from being stored in the back pocket of his tight jeans.

Locating Yixing is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

Jongin quickly gives up and decides to lean against a corner close to the DJ stand, looking out at the crowd that’s doubled since the last time he looked at it about an hour and a half ago.

He’s in a safe spot where he gets to see enough without being bothered by others, smoke wafting through the air, thinning out again as the smoke machines cease their doings and staff members are meddling with the stage and the new gear the DJ has brought.

Jongin’s fingers somehow find a way to the pocket of his leather jacket where the sharp edge of a business card presses into his thumb, a reminder that there’s a private number on the back of it and a daring request of something that goes further.

Few minutes later, a ripple of sound from the speaker snaps him out of the thoughts –

A soothing melody that forms the image of a wave of saltwater rolling over the ocean, moving as a secondary tune due to the husky, recorded male voice that slices in with the words  _ ‘ladies and gentlemen, this is slow jam from  _ **_D.O_ ** _. The new  _ **_What Is Love_ ** _.’ _

Jongin’s never heard the audience this lively before, hooting in anticipation and some girls going wild in the other corner, ones he can only hear because of the dim light and dark purple color throwing a veil over the inside of the club _. _

He stands there, frozen as the pieces of the puzzle start forming the real picture.

The picture before him coming to life:

**D.O**  – or  **_Kyungsoo_ ** , who’s no longer wearing his glasses or the bomber jacket but has got ruffled hair and rolled up sleeves on his t-shirt, the light flickering over him showing the hint of a dark tattoo stretching down the entire length of his arm.

The track he plays is deep and indulgent, just like Jongdae had said, and yet it’s still got the right mood for a nightclub.

Sensual and with many layers, and Jongin holds his breath when Kyungsoo leans forward and sings into the microphone lined up, tuning in with the background singers from the track –

_ ‘Yeah, play another slow jam.  _ **_This is my property_ ** _ ,’  _ his voice is like the crackle of a fire on a cold night, dangerously clean as he growls into the mic for the last part,  _ ’tell me what is love.’ _

Jongin needs to lean against the wall to keep standing.

Beatboxer, singer, DJ, music producer.

There’s apparently not a thing Kyungsoo  _ isn’t _ , Jongin realizes thirty minutes into it.

He knows most people drag themselves to the dancefloor to dance dirty with a stranger or blend in to match the flow, but Jongin finds himself a spot where he knows he’ll be seen, and he makes sure Kyungsoo knows how much he likes the change.

 


End file.
